Ian McKellen: If we were to draw a graph of my process, of my method, it would be something like this: Sir Ian, Sir Ian, Sir Ian, action, wizard "You shall not pass!", cut. Sir Ian, Sir Ian, Sir Ian.
a cry of a woman (discovering the body of the queen)
M (mildly curious): What is that noise?
S (alarmed): It is the cry of women, my good lord.
S goes out, M talks for a bit about how he no longer feels anything at all.
S comes in again, petrified. The king is about to kill him in rage and grief.
S: The queen....
S: ... my lord ...
S can hardly get it out, the next line will begin an uncontrollable violent rage.
S: is... ... ... dead.
M stares at him blankly. S opens his clenched eyes and regards the silent monarch. He isn't sure the king has heard him. He's just formulating his next line when...
M realises that something is expected of him. He tries his best to reconfigure his face into an appropriate image of grief.
M: Ah, uh... She should have died hereafter!
He turns his face away and waves away S, who is at once relieved (no rage) and profoundly disturbed (no emotional reaction at all). S slinks away.
M (to us): There would have been a time for such a word... (meaning the line he's just spoken)
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